Jagged Little Pillar
by Mr. Honeysuckle
Summary: NoDoze? Focus Factor? Ha! That's for weenies! Sam's going for the real deal! But when her fastpaced life finally catches up with her, will she remain evenkeeled, or just keel over. Special thanks to Capm and Mat49324 for proofreading.


Jagged Little Pillar

Act I. One of These Nights

Sam's fingers flew back and forth across the keyboard. She had only a sentence left to write in her essay on British empiricism. Her humanities instructor, Lacey MacTaggert, strolled leisurely about the room, glancing randomly at various computer monitors. As she passed Sam's terminal, Sam rubbed her temples and shook her head. She'd been up until about two that morning finishing a paper on the Rough Riders of the Spanish-American War: a fascinating lot to say the least. The problem was that Sam had been up late Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday also working on various school and recreational projects. It seemed like Sam was devoting more and more of her time to others these days.

The bell rang as Sam's essay finished printing, and Sam stood to leave. As she started toward the door, however, Ms. MacTaggert put a hand on her shoulder.

"Excuse me," Ms. MacTaggert said, "Miss Simpson, do you have a moment? I have something I'd like to ask you about in my office." Sam's heart skipped a beat. Involuntary though it probably was, it felt instinctive to her.

"Um, sure," Sam said following Ms. MacTaggert into her office. Ms. MacTaggert closed the door and motioned to a chair. Sam sat, and Ms. MacTaggert, seating herself, folded her hands and looked across her fairly well-organized desk at her young pupil.

"Ms. Simpson," she began, "you ought to know better than anyone that I pride myself on excellence and top-level performance. That's not at issue here. Sam," Ms. MacTaggert was rarely this personal with her students, and this made Sam gasp, "are you alright? You look awfully tired." The word itself made Sam feel almost relaxed. Sam had responsibilities—all sorts of responsibilities. Still, she knew intellectually she wasn't getting enough sleep. Her head felt heavy, then light, then heavy…her head began to nod.

"Miss Simpson?" MacTaggert spoke a bit louder and Sam's head jerked in her direction.

"Oh, um, sorry, Ms. MacTaggert," Sam stammered, "I'm…okay."

"Miss Simpson," MacTaggert's voice was filled with urgency, "you need to realize that sleep is crucial to good performance. Not even you can hold out forever. You're one of my best pupils, Sam, and I hope things can continue to go well for you, but that won't happen unless you take care of yourself."

"I…I know, Ms. MacTaggert," Sam replied honestly, "it's just…well…I have a lot to do these days…you know how it is." Sam attempted a chuckle, but it came out as a whooping sound.

"Miss Simpson," Ms. MacTaggert got up and came around her desk to stand in front of Sam, "there's nothing wrong with lightening your load a little bit, especially if it means better health in the long run."

"Yeah," Sam said noncommittally. What in blazes did MacTaggert know. She was a tenured instructor at Beverly Hills High. What kinds of pressures could she possibly have?

"Think about it Sam, won't you?" MacTaggert said gently, her eyes very soft.

The spies sat around a small table in the back of the food court in the Beverly Park Mall. Sam sipped absently on her turtle moca and regarded her two best friends, Clover and Alex, as though she saw them through a thick morning fog.

"So anyway," Clover was saying, "Tre Nerlman…I mean Tre Nerlman! He of all people asked me to the spring ball! As if **I**, Clover, would…" Her voice seemed to trail off…or did Sam nod off.

"…I mean, am I wrong, Sam?" Clover said from light-years away, "Sam? Sam?"

"Yo, Earth to Sammy!" Alex nudged Sam with her elbow.

"Oh, right," Sam said, "that's…totally nuts!" Sam stared stupidly at Clover, trying with no measure of success to pretend she'd heard a word of Clover's daily drivel.

"Like, what's your malfunction, Sam?" Clover gawked at Sam like she was a display model.

"Huh?" Sam said, her breathing labored, "Oh, um, nothing…I'm…just a bit tired. It…it's nothing, really!"

"Are you, sure?" Alex asked, becoming concerned.

"Yes, Alex, I'm sure," stupid dope. That was Alex for you.

"Okay, Sam," Alex said sheepishly, "just checking." She cared about Sam in her own simple way.

"I dunno, Sam," Clover said, "have you got some totally major sitch you can't share with us or something? It's almost like there's something you don't want us to know."

"No, Clover," Sam was becoming annoyed, "I don't have a 'sitch', okay? Everything's fine." Sam glanced at her watch. It was four o'clock in the afternoon.

"Oh, rats!" Sam said suddenly, "listen, guys, I'm really, **really** sorry. Please don't be mad, but I've got a paper to finish for English. I…I promise I'll see you guys tomorrow, okay?"

"What?" Clover nearly squealed, "you can't…"

"But you just got here, Sam!" Alex said, somewhat annoyed at her friend's sudden need to leave.

"Look, I know," Sam said, "I'm really sorry. I promise we'll come out here this weekend. My treat!"

"Oh, how sweet," Clover sneered.

"Look," Sam dug around in her breast pocket and slapped a crumpled five-dollar-bill on the table, "there. I hope this'll do. I'll see you guys tomorrow." She was gone in a flash. Alex and Clover stared after her annoyedly.

"I don't think Sam has time for us anymore," Alex turned to Clover.

"Girlfriend," Clover said, "I don't think Sam has much of anything these days."

In his small laboratory, Tommy Celeris capped off the last bottle and smiled evilly.

"Ha!" he sneered, "this'll get 'em all for sure. First, I'm too slow, not fast enough…so I slowed things down. People complained, and those wretched little teenaged hooligans ruined everything. Fine, if the world wants to be on the move, they'll never stop moving. Just one of these little gems per day and your heart will go on…and on…and on, until it beats right out of your chest! I'm going to teach people to complain about being too slow, and to meddle in the affairs of honest, hard-working people like me! Ha ha ha! Can your hearts stand it, spies? Ha ha ha!"

Without knowing it, Sam was rocking back and forth in her office chair. She typed furiously. Her paper on Blake's Songs of Innocence was due at 9 the next morning, and Mr. Cartland didn't put up with excuses of any kind, no matter the circumstances. And furthermore, she typed shakily, the chimney-sweeper of innocence…is…is… Her hands were shaking violently. Suddenly, an ad appeared on the television screen next to her. She needed the background noise; she was falling asleep as it was.

"People everywhere," said a much-too-chipper voice, "are you tired of being tired? When was the last time you didn't want to nap at your desk or in your cubicle? Has 'not tonight honey, I'm tired', become a cliché? There's only one answer to **your** problems, friend! All new, completely safe, maximum strength Focusol! Introducing Focusol ER! This energy-replenishing little tablet will not only have you feeling refreshed, but ready to spread your wings and fly through your day. This little pill contains ginseng as well as over ten other herbal remedies that will refresh and empower you to make the most of life. Do it all…get the things done you never could! You'll stay energized for twelve hours straight! Look, we're living in a competitive world. Don't get left behind. It's hard to keep up, but now you can! Maximum-strength Focusol ER! There're only twenty-four hours in a day, but you can forget that for today. Focusol is available at most fine pharmacies and drugstores.

Sam's eyes were saucers. Could this be possible! Naw. Stuff like that didn't really work, did it? It did have ginseng in it. Ginseng was quite the healthy herbal supplement from what Sam had read. Hesitantly, Sam got up from her computer and walked unsteadily toward the door.

At the foot of the stairs, she almost ran right into Gabrielle, her mother, who stood next to an older woman with streaks of grey highlighting her mouse-brown hair.

"Oh, what perfect timing, Samantha," Gabby smiled down at her daughter, "you've met Mrs. Killingworth, haven't you Sammy?"

"Oh, what a beautiful daughter you have," Mabel Killingworth smiled insincerely at Sam, as though Sam were somehow inferior to her.

"Um…hi," Sam said with reserve, extending her hand, "how…how are you?" The woman took and squeezed Sam's hand.

"Oh, charmed, darling, but you look totally exhausted," Killingworth said nasally, "are you sleeping well dear?"

"Sure," Sam said quickly, "of course! Early to bed, early to rise and all that. I just thought I'd take a break and go for a little walk…y'know…get the old circulation going." Would this cretin ever shut up?

"Really?" Killingworth sounded surprised, "at eight-thirty at night?"

"Well, y'know, that cool night air really revives you."

"Well I'll be!" the woman smirked, "what a sensible young lady! Smart and pretty…yep…you have a keeper here, Gabby." She winked superciliously at Gabby. Sam wondered if there was enough Drain-O in the world for a stuck-up little witch like Mabel Killingworth, but thought better of commenting on it. She left, waving at the two women over her shoulder, but as she did, she heard something that doubled her resolve.

"Now don't you worry about us, Mable," Gabby said, "my Sammy'll be just fine. She's a straight A student, on the chess club, French club, treasurer of the student council, co-captain of the color-guard, and a junior member of the National Society of Women Scientists. Tell me she can't do anything she wants to!"

"Oh, don't be silly, Gabby!" Mabel said, "there're only twenty-four hours in a day, you know." Now Sam was determined to forget that. She increased her speed down to the corner of Wilshire and The Medicine Cabinet, an upscale drugstore in the center of Beverly Hills. She walked up the plush carpeted aisle to the back counter. Her heart was pounding. She knew how young she looked, but hoped the woman behind the counter didn't.

"Good evening, Miss," the young woman said cheerily, "what can I get for you?"

"Um," Sam stopped a moment, "do you perchance carry something called Focusol?"

"Oh, of course," the woman said knowingly, "we've been selling tons of it over the past week. Just appeared on the market too. The guy who invented it had been doing research for quite awhile. Got FDA approval about a month ago. Stuff's been flying off the shelves. I can give you fifty or a hundred pills."

"A hundred?" Sam was shocked.

"Sure," the woman said, "that would be thirty dollars."

"I'll take it," Sam nodded. The woman eyed Sam for a moment.

"Okay," the woman said, "but do you have a picture ID or something I could get…y'know…to process your vital information." Sam slowly produced the school-issued photo ID she carried with her everywhere and handed it over.

"Oh, miss," the woman's face fell slightly, "I'm afraid I'll need you to get parental permission before I can sell this to you. FDA rules."

"Not even just one pill?" Sam asked.

"I'm terribly sorry, miss." And she handed the ID back and turned back to her computer. Stupid wench, Sam thought in disgust. Well, I'll just get it some other way then. She returned home, dejected, made herself some coffee, and retired at the early hour of twelve-oh-five a.m.

The next afternoon, Alex, Clover, and a very tired Sam were walking home from Beverly Hills High.

"Look," Sam was saying annoyedly to Clover, "I said I was sorry, okay? I've got lots more important stuff to do right now. I promised I'd get with you this weekend, didn't I? Look, can we just drop this?" Neither Clover nor Alex got a chance to answer, however, as the manhole cover they walked over swalloed them whole.

"Oh, not again! Jerrrrrryyyy!" Sam yelled above the wind, "I don't have time for this!" A moment later, the three spies landed on the comfort in front of Jerry Lewis's desk.

"And Jerry Lewis does it again," Sam glared at Jerry, "look, Jerr, could you snap it up a bit, please. I've got more important things to do here!"

"Aw, I wuv you too, Sam," Jerry and the other spies snickered, "anyway, this is a mission. I certainly think that's important, don't you?"

"What's up, Jerr?" Clover was unusually interested in the mission today. Sam knew it was all about showmanship for Clover now.

"Thought you'd never ask!" jerry said, "spies, have you heard of a new drug on the market called methobenzyl permanganate?"

"Oh yeah," Alex grinned, "that's what you say when you have hot food in your mouth, right?"

"Not quite, Alex," Jerry shook off the bad joke, "it also goes by the name Focusol." Sam's eyes flew open again.

"Focusol?" she said, "yeah, I saw an ad for it on TV yesterday. Why?"

"Girls," Jerry said, gravity replacing cheerfulness more quickly than it should have, "Focusol is very dangerous. Do you remember Tom Celeris?" The girls stared blankly at him.

"Tom Celeris was the man responsible for the slow-down in global motion some time ago."

"Aw, must we dwell on the past, Jerr?" Alex moaned.

"Oh, sorry Alex," he cleared his throat, "anyway, your mission is to infiltrate Celeris' hideout and focus your efforts on taking him and his little drug company."

"Why?" Sam wanted to know, "what's wrong with it? It seems like a healthy little supplement to me."

"Girls," jerry continued, "Focusol does more than wake you up. It increases your heart rate beyond even target exercise levels…over two hundred beats per minute…sometimes close to two hundred fifty. That's very destructive to the entire circulatory system and can severely damage the heart and ribcage." Great, Sam thought, I already got one lecture in science class today, and now another one.

""Oh, come on, Jerr," she said, "so your heartbeat goes up a bit. That's perfectly normal isn't it? I mean, I don't see how this mission will make the world a better place."

"Let's put it this way," Jerry said with finality, "your career depends on it." That was the end of this discussion.

"Now then," he continued resolutely, "for your gadgets. Standard issue, as always…bungy belts, suction powered go go boots, X-ray contact lenses, laser lipstick, and a new gadget called the gas guzzler."

"I dunno, Jerr," Alex said, "I know this is world-class stuff, but I don't think my mom'll let me borrow her SUV even for this."

"The gas guzzler," Jerry ignored her again, "is a pom-pom that emits nitrous oxide when waved about."

"So our enemies'll laugh themselves to death?" Sam asked.

"Or pass out," Jerry added, "and since you won't be driving to your destination, a WOOHP chopper is already parked outside. Intelligence reports indicate that Celeris' warehouse is located off an uncharted island off the Baja Peninsula. Good luck, girls." Jerry winked at Alex, and the girls dropped through the floor once more.

Act II. Turning to the Bottle

As the chopper touched down, Clover chanced to look out the window to her left, and her jaw dropped.

"Wait a sec," Clover said, "I thought Jerr said Celeris' hideout was some warehouse off an island near the Baja Peninsula. This" she pointed at the ship the chopper had landed on "hardly counts as a warehouse."

"Don't be ridiculous, Clover," Sam chided, "he's probably storing tons of the stuff down below in a cargo hold or something."

"That's a great point, Sam," Alex commented.

"Oh, how charming," Clover muttered, "little suckup!"

"What happened Clover?" Sam turned to Clover quickly.

"Nothing," Clover said quickly, "look, let's just do this and get it over with, okay?" Alex nodded and Sam said nothing. They slid down out of the chopper and onto the upper deck of the large vessel that rocked to and fro in the warm Pacific waters.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Alex said shakily, "did I ever tell either of you I'm prone to seasickness?"

"Oh, come on, Alex," Sam said annoyedly, "look, the faster we get through this the better off we'll be. Look, just take a rest and we'll get going." They rested for a moment and proceeded down into the vessel. Unfortunately, the moment they entered the main corridor that ran bow to stern, a uniformed man saw them and approached quickly.

"Hey," he barked gruffly, "what do you three think you're doing? This is a private vessel, you know!"

"Um…er…that is…" Alex and Clover fumbled for words and whistled, but Sam came to their rescue.

"Oh, we're deckhands," she said matter-of-factly, "Celeris told us to come down and help move some crates of Focusol or something."

"What?" the man looked annoyed, "great timing, that one! All the crates are moved already."

"Cool," Alex joined in, "does that mean we're off duty?"

"Well," you could go count up and make sure we got all the crates or something," the man said.

"Oh, sure," Sam answered, "we'll get right on it, right girls?"

"Yeah!" the others agreed in unison.

"Um, sorry," Sam said, "which way did you say the cargo was?"

"Oh, good grief," the man mumbled, "look, go down through that hatch. You can't miss it. There oughtta be a hundred crates or so of the stuff down there."

"Thanks!" all three said. Sam got the hatch open without any trouble and the three lowered themselves down below. Once the hatch had closed, the man pressed the badge on the breast pocket of his uniform.

"Hey boss," he said, "it's Bones. Listen, a couple girls you hired just went down to count up the crates to make sure we got 'em all."

"What?" Celeris yelled through the badge, causing the man to jump back, "what girls?"

"I dunno," the man said stupidly, "these three young-looking chicks in weird jumpsuits just came in here and told me you sent them."

"Oh, Bones, you bumbling…" Celeris stopped short, "…hmmm…come to think of it, you may be on to something after all. Where'd they go?"

"Um, down into the cargo hold to count up the crates like you wanted."

"Yeeeees," Celeris grinned, "just like I wanted. G…good work, Bones. Take a break!"

"Gee, thanks, boss," the man said, grinning himself, "and my break's not even for fifteen whole minutes!"

"Take a half hour, Bones," Celeris cut the connection. Ha ha ha! Celeris grinned, yes girls, your little invasion will pay off nicely. Do make sure my cargo remains…safe.

Stacks of blue plastic crates ran from floor to ceiling in the cramped cargo hold. Sam counted the crates stacked on the starboard side while Clover and Alex counted those on the port side.

"Well, looks like we got fifty over here," Alex called, "how's it going Sam?"

"Great, just great, Alex," Sam called back, all but ignoring her friend. She had to keep counting!

"Look, you two," Sam called after a few more seconds, "you guys're done over there, right? Why don't you take a break or something. Go topside and get some sun or something. I…I'll be fine down here."

"Oh, that's okay, Sam," Alex said as she and Clover crossed the room, "we can help you finish counting the rest of those boxes!"

"No, really, Alex," Sam said, "that's quite alright. I'm fine…just…go on up. I'll be right there!"

"Sam," Alex said worriedly, "you're acting awful strange lately. I mean, we do stuff together, don't we? Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes, Alex," Sam said, more sharply than she realized, "I'm fine! Will you just go?" There was a reason Alex was also known as the duh queen.

"Hey, Sammie," Clover said in irritation, "what's with the 'tude all of a sudden? This is totally not you!"

"I don't have a 'tude, Clover, okay?" Sam retorted, "I just can't figure out why you guys insist on hanging all over me all the freakin' time, that's all!"

"Because we're your friends," Alex said matter-of-factly.

"Look, just let me finish counting these things, okay?" The others sighed as Sam resumed counting.

"I only count forty-nine of these things over here," Sam said after a short time, "one of these crates is missing."

"On the other hand," Alex said, "at least now we know where the chemical is being hidden. Why don't we run a scan on this stuff and send it back to headquarters. Maybe we can wrap this thing up early and hit the Beverly Park for some mocas."

"N…n…no," Sam said quickly, "h…hold on a sec, Alex. We don't know if this chemical is unstable or anything. Maybe we should just have some WOOHP cargo jets come out here and haul the stuff back home and analyze it there. It'd be much safer letting the trained guys look at this stuff, no?"

"Sam," Alex said, "what're you talking about?"

"I'm telling you, Alex," Clover said snidely, "Sam's gone completely mental."

"No," Sam said, "I just don't want us to risk getting chemical poisoning, is that alright?"

"That never stopped us before," Clover argued weakly.

"Look," Sam said, " let me go up and see if I can find that last crate. If you guys wanna radio in and have WOOHP pick the stuff up, be my guest. Just…please…don't try and scan this stuff, okay?" before her friends could answer, Sam climbed up the ladder onto the upper deck and closed the hatch behind her.

"This is just so wrong," Alex said to Clover, "I'm really worried about Sam. She's never acted like this before." A solitary tear dripped from Alex's eye.

"Aw, cheer up, Alex," Clover said clumsily, "Sam'll be fine."

"I…I hope you're right, Clover," Alex said, her breathing becoming ragged, "I don't want to lose her!"

Sam walked shakily down the narrow passage toward the aft section of the ship. A metal door appeared at the end of it marked STORAGE. She pushed on it, with no result.

"Looking for something?" a familiar voice said behind her. She wheeled around and saw Tom Celeris advancing up the passage towards her.

"Oh, it's you," Sam said, "um…what brings you here?"

"I might ask you the same thing, but since I already know…"

"Y…yeah," Sam cut in, "I'm just dying to try this new Focusol stuff. I heard it's really awesome!"

"Well, you can just…what's that?" Celeris did a spit-take, "you…you really want to help?"

"Well, I don't like you or anything," Sam said, "I mean, you did try to blow us up, but I do want to try this new drug, especially if you promise not to hurt me this time!"

"Well, well, well," Celeris sneered, "perhaps there's hope for you yet, Sammie dear. Let's see, what shall we do with you?"

"Well," Sam said, "one of the crates of the drug is missing down below."

"Hmmm," Celeris responded, " so it is. And you'd be correct to assume it's in that storage locker. Just push on that metal grate right there and you shouldn't have a problem getting at it." Sam did as she was instructed and the door gave easily. She stepped inside and immediately saw what she had been looking for. A single blue crate sat on a metal table in the middle of the small room. She approached it and peered into it. There had to be fifty bottles of the drug inside the one crate.

"Well, go ahead," Celeris wheedled, "have some. It's on me!"

"Really," Sam said, scarcely able to believe she was in any way cooperating with someone like Celeris.

"Sure!" he said, "go for it. It'll do you a world of good! Trust me!" Almost instinctively, Sam drew a bottle out and unscrewed the lid. She popped two of the little red pills into her mouth and swalloed them as quickly as she could. Almost instantly, she could feel a rush of energy blazing its way through her body.

"Oh my gosh," Sam gasped as the newfound strength rushed through her veins, "this is incredible. However did you do this. The world has to know about this!"

Hmmm," Celeris said wryly, "so they do."

"Do you really use ginseng to make this?" Celeris stifled a laugh. Ginseng indeed.

"Um, yeah," he said, "the stuff's full of it! Now then, why don't you bring the stuff down below. I'm going to radio ahead so some cargo jets can pick this stuff up when we hit the shore."

"Right," Sam said, scarcely able to believe what she was saying. Was she actually in with a known criminal like Tom Celeris? She picked up the box and carried it back toward the hatch leading to the cargo hold.

Alex paced about the small room uncomfortably. She didn't know what Sam was up to topside, and didn't like this.

"That does it!" she said nastily, "to heck with Sam and her stupid rules! She broke out her compowder and approached one of the crates on the top row. She carefully removed it and set it on the floor, removing a bottle from the crate and scanning it into her compowder. Please, just please hurry! She thought frantically, hoping against hope Jerry could hear her. She was about to replace the bottle and the crate when a familiar voice stopped her heart.

"And just what do you think that you're doing?"

Act III. The Pillar Crumbles

Alex turned toward the voice, panicked.

"Um, Sam," Alex said, trying hard to control her breathing, "um, I was just making sure the right number of bottles was in here."

Sam strode up to Alex and glared menacingly at her. Sam's breathing was extremely fast now, much faster than it should have been.

"Using your compowder?" Sam snarled fiercely.

"Sam," Alex said, her voice shaking, "what's wrong? Are you okay? Why do you sound so out of breath.

"I'm trying not to lose it with someone who betrayed me that I thought was my friend!" Sam's voice rose with each word until it was at near fever pitch, "how could you do this to me Alex?"

"I didn't do anything, Sam!" Alex said, nearly sobbing now, " I swear it."

"Then prove it!" without warning, Sam snatched the compowder out of Alex's hand and opened it. She pressed some buttons as Alex tried to wrench it from her.

"Hey," Alex cried, "give that back!"

"back off, Alex!" Sam growled.

"Okay, Sam," Alex said in tears, "you're really starting to scare me now! Stop it!"

"You're a liar!" Sam shouted, showing the compowder to Alex and pointing a slender finger at the display, which now revealed the scan Alex had conducted.

"Sam, this isn't right!" Alex cried, "what is really going on here. Does this have anything to do with it?" Alex held up a bottle for Sam to see.

"What if it does?" Sam said snidely, "in fact, now that you remind me…" She took the lone bottle out of her jumpsuit.

"Sam, no!" Alex shouted. Sam took two pills from the bottle.

"Give me the bottle, Sam," Alex approached Sam, her eyes blazing, "please give me the bottle now. You're going to get hurt!" Her voice was shaking more and more.

"Back off, Alex!" Sam warned, "I'm telling you to just back off!"

"No," Alex said, trying to control her voice, "I won't do it! I won't let you do this to yourself!"

"Back off, Alex!" Sam clenched her teeth and put up a defensive hand.

"how can you do this to yourself, Sammie!" Alex's throat tightened, "you've got such a strong mind…and…you always help me with math and science and stuff! You don't need drugs to keep this up! Give me the bottle, Sam!" She reached out her hand, then wished she hadn't. With force she understood neither then nor later explaining it to Jerry, Sam shoved Alex to the ground. The sheer force of the movement sent Alex to the floor. Her head struck the hard metal floor with a loud "clang"! Then, Alex lay still. Sam's eyes widened in shock. Could this be real?

"Alex?" Sam bent down, not believing what she saw at first, "Alex? Are you there?" When Alex did not respond, Sam began to shake her.

"Alex!" she shook Alex harder, "speak to me! Anything! Just, please speak to me! I'll do anything!"

"Well," Clover said sarcastically from a few paces away, "brilliant move, brainiac! I'm just real glad to see this is how you treat your best friends! Some spy you turned out to be!"

"Clover!" Sam shouted, "I don't have time for this! Alex might be hurt!"

"Oh no," Clover said, pushing a button on her compowder, "this time you've gone too far Sammie. Jerry and the boys'll be here before you know it."

"No!" Sam shouted, "it's not fair! Alex…Jerry…everyone!" Her voice cracked. She buried her head in her hands. Sam sobbed like she hadn't in quite a long time. She'd lost her best friend, and was about to lose another, not to mention her part-time job.

"That does it," Sam said severely after a short bout of weeping, "Celeris has gone too far this time."

"Oh, and just where do you think you're going?" Clover asked pointedly, "don't you have some drugs to take or something?"

"I'm gonna take care of Celeris myself." With that she marched to the ladder and climbed up with amazing newfound resolve.

Sam walked slowly toward the rear of the ship and the storage locker. She needed time to think. Had she truly lost Alex? She, Sam, was the one that had betrayed Alex. Clover was right. Maybe Sam didn't even deserve the title of secret agent. Besides, apparently the stress was getting to her. She'd had a lot on her mind, and had turned to not-so-controlled substances to deal with her stress. She had tried to stay ahead of the curve, but it hadn't worked.

Deliberately, she pushed open the door to the storage locker, and found what she was looking for.

"Celeris!" Sam uttered the name in the calmest voice she could muster, and it startled even Celeris.

"Oh, Sam," Celeris said, "what brings you back here."

"You did this to me," Sam said.

"Oh, and whatever would that be, Sammie dear?" Celeris smirked innocently at her.

"I can't believe I betrayed my best friend for you!" Sam took out the bottle and slammed it to the ground, "I've lost her because of your stupid glorified caffeine pills!"

"Caffeine?" Celeris chuckled, "oh, don't be silly, Sammie sweetie. There's no caffeine in those pills. Just a little chymoflavin to boost the old metabolism and adrenotin to give the ticker a much-needed kick start. I mean, really Sammie, you three dames are the ones always talking about fast fast fast. Are you changing your tune on me now?"

"You monster!" Sam said savagely, "I oughtta rip your heart out and ram it down your throat!"

"Oh, you humans with your idle threats…" Celeris sniggered.

"Y'know, on second thought," Sam smiled sinisterly, "you might have a point. Let's see how you feel slowing down the pace a little." Without warning, Sam whipped out her gas guzzler and jammed her finger down on the nozzle, spraying Celeris directly in the face. He fell to the floor instantly. Well, Sam thought, how bitterly ironic. That what slowing down really feels like. I almost wonder if a blast from the old spray can wouldn't have done me a world of good a few times. She immediately perished the thought. She was already as bad as Celeris for using the blasted drugs in the first place. She hurried back to Clover and Alex.

"Is Alex still here?" Sam asked as she clambered down the ladder.

"Duh, Sam," Clover gave a Sam a dirty look, "she hasn't moved an inch, has she? Wonder why that is?"

"Look," Sam rejoined, "I'm sorry, okay? I made a freaking mistake. Are you gonna hold it against me for the rest of my life?"

"Hmmm, dunno yet," Clover said truthfully, "we'll see how Alex pulls through and then we'll talk about it, 'kay?"

"For your information," Sam said, "Celeris is out of commission. Personally, I can't wait for Jerry and WOOHP to get here!"

"Yeah, well it is the least you could have done, anyway!" Clover shot back.

"Y'know, Clover," Sam replied, "I wouldn't expect you to understand what I've ahd to go through. You've just got it so easy…with all the guys chasing you around Beverly Hills, getting your hair done every morning, acting like the typical dumb blond."

"Oh, well look at little Miss Perfect!" Clover stuck out her tongue at Sam, "I mean, you're just so much better than me with your test tubes and you chess and your student council."

"Look, Clover," Sam finally conceded, "can we just forget about this for now. Alex is hurt. We have to tell WOOHP what happened."

"No, you have to tell them what happened!" Clover corrected.

"Fine, I'll tell them."

"Alright then." The two stood in stubborn silence for several minutes. It wasn't until about ten minutes had past that Sam thought she heard a broken sound in the distance, like the faint sound of gunfire. She decided to go topside to find out what was up. In the distance, she spotted a familiar looking chopper and began waving frantically at it. As the chopper drew closer, she spied the word WOOHP on the side of it. Slowly the chopper landed and several WOOHP agents jumped out.

"Look," Sam began frantically, "let me explain. Alex is down below and she's hurt and it's all my fault and Tom Celeris is in a storage locker unconscious and you just have to help me!"

"Whoa whoa whoa," the tall, well-built agent put a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder, "slow down, kid. Who are you, first off?"

"Oh, I…I'm one of WOOHP's junior agents. Samantha Simpson sir."

"Okay, Samantha…"

"Please, call me Sam," Sam corrected.

"Okay, Sam," the agent said, "now tell me again from the beginning." Sam led the uniformed agent down below to Alex.

"Wow," the agent said, kneeling to look at Alex, "she really hit the deck on this one. Celeris, huh?"

"No sir," Sam lowered her eyes.

"pardon?" the agent looked quizzically at Sam.

"I…I did that, sir," Sam said softly.

"Oh, my," the agent looked at Sam, "that would be a problem. Well, we'll get her into the medicopter and get her back as soon as possible. Who's your frontline supervisor, Sam?"

"J…Jerry Lewis, sir," Sam said, worry apparent in her voice, "are you really going to call him?"

"We don't really have much of a choice, Sam," the agent replied honestly, "this is pretty reckless endangerment of a government agent." Sam turned away. The agent was right. Sam had made her bed, and now she had to lie in it.

Unfortunately, Sam's last thought turned out to be rather prophetic in more ways than one. At that moment she clutched her head. She suddenly felt violently dizzy. She staggered a bit and grabbed onto a nearby hook for support.

"Miss?" the agent hurried to Sam's side, concerned, "are you alright?"

"Oh…I…I don't know…I feel so…faint." Sam didn't have any idea what was going on, but felt as though her heart would pound through her chest at any moment. Her head whirled. She fell to the floor and lost consciousness.

"We need a medicopter here on the double," the agent said into his walkie-talkie, "we've got two agents down in the cargo hold."

At that moment, Alex opened her eyes and looked around blearily.

"Ooooooooh," she moaned, "what the…where…what happened." She tried to lift her head, but dropped it again as a bolt of pain shot through her head, causing a second jolt.

"Don't move, miss," the agent stood over her and looked down with concern, "you took a pretty nasty bruise to the back of your head there. We've got a medical chopper on the way now; some medical attention wouldn't hurt. Got another one going too. What's your name, young lady?"

"A…Alex, sir," Alex replied weakly, "Alex Benitez."

"Hmmm, interesting," the agent mused, "the girl mentioned that name before she blacked out. Do you know a Sam by any chance?" Alex saw Sam for the first time, and her mouth fell open at the sight of the still form.

"Sammie!" Alex nearly shouted, then winced as the pain knifed her skull again.

"Ssshhh," the agent cautioned.

"What…what happened to her?" Alex asked, truly worried now.

"Not too sure," the agent responded honestly, "started grabbing her head, staggered some, then just keeled over on the floor there." Alex looked away.

"It…it was the drugs," she said. Alex had seen everything. The mission was failing, her head hurt, and now she was losing her best friend, someone who had done it all for her. She began sobbing their on the floor despite the shots of agony that flew in every direction in her foggy brain.

"I…I'm sorry," she said between sobs, "I…I just…I just don't know what to do anymore!"

"What do you mean?" the agent asked softly.

"Look at her," Alex responded, "I've lost my best friend because of those stupid pills."

"That's not entirely true," the agent replied, " has she been using them very long?"

"Well, no," Alex said truthfully, "n…not that I know of."

"Well then," the agent continued, "there's still a chance. If we catch it early enough, Sam can be helped."

"I…I hope so," Alex said, "she's my best friend in the world. She's always helped me with homework and classes and stuff. And she was there for me the last time we confronted Celeris." The agent could only nod.

Topside, a medicopter landed and several medical technicians scrambled out. They were met by several WOOHP Special Forces Agents.

"We've got two hurt in the cargo hold down below," one agent told the techs, "one took a blow to the back of the head and the other just up and keeled over. Don't know what all happened down there." Two of the techs dropped down into the cargo hold and regarded the two unconscious spies.

"Can two more of you come down here," one called up through the opening, "we don't want to take any chances."

Two more techs joined their colleagues in the cargo hold. The first pair carefully lifted Sam to her feet and supported her.

"We can use that freight lift there," one of them said. They eased Sam over to the lift and onto it. It was barely big enough for all three of them, but slowly they rose to the upper deck of the ship. Sam was quickly loaded onto the medicopter.

Okay, a tech said to her partner, "it's backboard time. Can't take any chances if anything's broken."

"Right," the other agreed, "miss, can you move at all?"

"I…I don't know," Alex said honestly.

"I wouldn't risk it," the agent said, "she hit her head pretty hard on that floor." Carefully, slowly, the techs slid the backboard underneath Alex. Alex tried as hard as she could through the throbbing to hoist herself onto the backboard. Finally, she was on completely. The techs carefully eased her into the freight lift as their partners had done and were lifted to the top deck. Much more carefully, the techs moved Alex slowly toward the chopper, being careful not to make any sudden movements with her limp body. Her hands lay across her chest and her eyes were wide and glazed.

"P…please," she prayed aloud, "please, just let Sam be alright!" She was gently placed on a stretcher in the back of the medicopter and the group took off for the United States.

ACT IV. Moving at the Speed of Life

Sam knocked at the door to the hotel room. Jerry had asked her to meet him at the Beverly Wilshire. She knew what was coming, but this did nothing to loosen the knots in her stomach.

"Enter," she heard Jerry's voice rather faintly through the thick metal floor. She heard a click and a buzzing sound and slowly pushed the door open. Her heart was thumping, though not from anything coursing through her veins this time. Sam knew what she had done was wrong. She walked slowly across the plush carpet and, when he motioned, sat in a cushioned chair across from him.

"Hello Sam," Jerry said, cheerfully enough.

"Hi," the word almost caught in her throat.

"Y'know, Sam," Jerry said, "I've been thinking a lot lately."

"Look, Jerry," Sam's voice cracked, "please let me explain. This isn't what you think! I swear it! I know you're disappointed in me, but…"

"Actually, Sam," Jerry said, his voice becoming somber rather suddenly, "that's the interesting thing. It's really not what you think." Sam stared. What on Earth was he talking about?

"To be perfectly honest, Sam," jerry said, "I…I'm really rather cross with myself."

"I'm sorry, sir?" Sam could hardly believe what she was hearing.

"Sam," Jerry said, "I've arranged for you to take a short sabbatical. You need it more than anyone."

"No, Jerry, please don't," Sam bit her lip, "I'm not taking drugs anymore, I swear it." Well then, this was it, wasn't it. It was finally time for her to bite the bullet and give up her spying for good.

"Sam," Jerry said, "you've been putting way too much pressure on yourself. You constantly spread yourself too thin, you don't make time for others, but more importantly, you don't make time for yourself."

"Oh Jerry," Sam sobbed, "you don't understand! Everyone just assumes I'm Miss perfect. Everybody always told me how smart I am, how good at everything I am. It's just kind of hard not to feel like your letting people down if you don't live up to that! 'Look at Sam! She's so smart! She can do anything'"

"Oh, Sam," Jerry replied gently, "don't you see that I understand that perfectly. I tend to do that myself. I'm not saying it's right or anything. Quite frankly, being a spy's a lot of pressure for someone your age to have to deal with. I mean, ever since you girls became spies, it's been hard to always lead lives as normal teenagers. Funny how you see such things in superhero shows all the time."

"It…it's so stupid," Sam's voice broke, "I…I've never disappointed anyone, jerry. Never! I guess I'm trying to make sure I don't let anyone down."

"Oh, Sam," Jerry said, "you girls have never let me down. I think the only thing that disappoints me is that I use that against you, even if I don't do it consciously. Look, Sam, I'm not banning you from WOOHP permanently, if that's what you're worried about. I just want you to take a breather. Relax, go to the beach, go to the arcade, see a movie, have a moca with Clover and Alex, y'know, teenage stuff."

Sam sighed. Jerry was right. She did take life awfully seriously. People did have a way of stereotyping folks like Sam.

"Oh, maybe you're right, jerr," Sam said, "and…well..I guess I kind of have been a jackass to Clov and Alex. Maybe I oughtta see if they wanna go for mocas later or something."

"That a girl," Jerry said, "and, Sam. Don't be so hard on yourself all the time, not even during missions. If this stuff were easy, everyone would be doing it. You're very special to me that way." Jerry rose, crossed to Sam's chair, and kissed her lightly on the head. A spring popped in Sam. She suddenly felt a hundred pounds lighter. Jerry wasn't angry with her, except possibly for turning to substances for answers. He wanted her to be herself. That was what it meant to be a top-knotch spy.

Sam walked up to Clover and Alex the next morning.

"Hey, Sam," Clover looked suspiciously at her, "don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Oh no," Sam said coolly, "not 'til this afternoon."

"Oh, and where's that," Clover asked.

"At the Beverly Park Mall with you two, I hope," Sam replied.

"Really?" Clover wasn't convinced.

"Yep, and…" Sam reached in the breast pocket of her lavender blazer and whipped out a twenty-dollar-bill, "I'm buying!"

"Whoa," Clover said in disbelief, "Sam, did someone throw a switch in your brain circuitry or something?"

"Naw," Sam said, "but…just so you guys don't wonder, Jerry's having me take some vacation time from WOOHP for a bit."

"Man," Alex said, "Jerry's ahead of the curve, isn't he?"

"Oh yeah," Sam said, "and y'know? I'm actually kinda glad. I do need to take it easy for awhile."

"You can say that again," Clover said under her breath.

"Y'know," Alex said, "isn't there a Teensickle concert this weekend? We should go. My dad might be able to get us tickets."

"That's awesome Alex," Sam grinned. She took a step toward Alex.

"Listen, Alex," she said, "I'm…I wouldn't be angry if you never forgave me for what happened on that ship, y'know."

"Sam," Alex said, nudging Sam, "if you hadn't changed your attitude, then I would have hated you. Now I only hate you a little." Sam hugged Alex tightly, and passed on Jerry's kiss to her. Clover began to make mock sounds as though she might vomit any second.

"Whoa," she said, "lavatory emergency, dead ahead."

"Clover," Sam cast a glance in her direction, "you little jerk!"

"Hey, Saaaaaam," Clover wheedled, "you're stressing again."

"Why you little," Sam lunged for Clover, who took off down the hall toward the ladies' room.

"Come back here you half-crazed fashion-diva!" Sam yelled. Clover ran and laughed playfully.

"Now, that's what I call moving at the speed of life!" Alex smirked and winked, and walked after her youthful friends.


End file.
